


step outside in the midnight rain

by bandshirts



Category: The Ultimate Sidemen, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, bi harry rights!!, we’re all here from the new mukbang video right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29643021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandshirts/pseuds/bandshirts
Summary: “You think you like boys?” Ethan asks him, his voice still low. “Or you know you do?”Harry shrugs helplessly.“I mean, I don’t exactly have much experience do I?”He tries for joking nonchalance but falls about a mile short, tone vulnerable.The two of them lapse into silence, but he can tell the conversation is far from over. When he raises his head again, Ethan’s already gazing at him. The other boy licks his lips, hesitates, then mumbles, so quietly Harry’s certain he must have misheard him, “Do you… want to try?”**or, harry like boys and they both figure some shit out.
Relationships: Harry Lewis/Ethan Payne
Comments: 15
Kudos: 43





	step outside in the midnight rain

**Author's Note:**

> listen i just finished watching the new sidemen sunday video right and after all the harry n ethan content i couldn’t get this out of my Head okay so here we go here's something i threw out in a few hours
> 
> title from afterglow by all time low cos idk man i was listening to it

So Harry might like boys.

It’s a small thing, really. Tiny. The key word here is might and like it’s totally not a big deal. Not at all.

He remembers being sixteen, young and reckless, his mind a mess of hormones and the singular distinctive thought that the new boy in his year was _pretty_. He remembers the tangled confusion, the battle to figure yourself out at an age when you barely knew who you were, the way the boy would smile at him sometimes and it would make him feel warm all over. But more than that he remembers the snickers of the other boys in his year whenever they had lessons with the only openly gay teacher in the school, the way the insults would fall from their mouths so easily, calling each other slurs over football and fists and scraped knees. He remembers the shame. He remembers how it burnt him up inside.

And then there was Katie, and she was everything he wanted. He was young and in love with a pretty girl, and that tiny part of him he had never quite understood was buried deep down, shoved into a tiny box that had been forced shut with a padlock he had lost the key for.

Only then they had broken up, and with a national lockdown leaving Harry with fuck all to do, his mind started to wander.

The thing is it’s a massive fucking _thing_ and he doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to do about it.

He does nothing.

**

He manages to push it down again, and he doesn’t think about kissing boys for a while.

They’re recording another mukbang for the Sidemen channel and he’s a few drinks down, pleasantly buzzed, when Ethan opens his mouth.

“If I was to shag anyone here as a woman it would probably be Harry.”

His stomach tightens and a spark of something ignites in his chest without any conscious thought. And, okay, so Ethan’s an attractive guy. He’d be blind to not notice. He finds Ethan peng, and they’re both single, just two lads with no commitments and… so maybe he’s thought about it – once or twice. Just purely platonic attraction.

“We’re just mates.” The other boy laughs.

It sounds redundant even to his ears, and he’s helpless to the way his heart races.

Even beneath their guffaws, he can see the intrigue and curiosity in Josh and Tobi’s eyes. He’s never been more grateful for Vik’s presence than he is in this moment, his friend a barrier between him and too many confusing feelings that he's not nearly prepared enough to address. If he’s a little bit quieter the rest of the video, it’s just because he’s waved.

The truth is the conversation’s unlocked something inside of him. He knows he’s entering into dangerous territory and he’s terrified.

**

They’ve kissed before.

The denial was out of his mouth before Simon’s question had even registered in his brain properly, but the memory of that night creeps up on him unbidden.

It’s not like it had been anything deep, hell, it hadn’t even been a proper _kiss_.

They’d been playing truth or dare at some house party because apparently they were still teenagers and not functioning adults – to be fair Harry wasn’t sure half of the girls there were even over the age of 20, but Ethan had dragged him along, so naturally he was there anyway. The girl Ethan had been chatting up earlier had disappeared somewhere and he was maybe more than a bit pleased he wouldn’t have to watch them together.

Some girl across the room had looked at the two of them and how they’d ended up sprawled next to each other, pressed close, knees touching, and giggled delightedly. The alcohol flooding Harry’s veins meant that, when she’d dared Ethan to kiss him, he was slightly more immune to the hot flush of embarrassment than he would have otherwise been. He remembers laughing too loud and too bright, remembers the way Ethan had gone cross-eyed looking at him.

The hot brush of their lips was soft, the skin of their mouths chapped, and it simultaneously seemed to last forever and nowhere near long enough. Ethan giggled into his mouth, and Harry shivered, and they broke away laughing.

They didn’t talk about it after that, didn’t think they needed to, but lately it's been getting more difficult for him to repress the memory.

**

It’s not that late by the time they finish filming, but the rest of the boys disperse with various excuses anyway. They’d had no plans together, the two of them, but with nothing else to do they end up back at Harry and Cal’s place.

It’s dark, now. They’re outside, in the open space above the flat, and the buzz of alcohol is long gone, replaced instead by the familiar high of the weed they'd been steadily letting into their lungs. Ethan’s brow is furrowed in concentration as he rolls their – second? third? – joint, and in the glow of the fire, feeling loose-limbed and warm, Harry can’t help thinking that he looks kind of beautiful. The thought scares him just enough for his mind to screech to a halt. He tries to switch conversation topics, searching for a distraction, but what comes out instead is, “I think I like boys.”

He freezes up immediately, just as shocked by his own admission as his best mate must be. He doesn’t dare breathe, mind racing just as fast as his heart. It makes sense for Ethan to be the first one he tells, he supposes, but that doesn’t make him any more willing for anyone to know. Not until it was something he understood himself, at least.

Something must show in his face because in the next moment Ethan’s dropped down beside him, an arm slung around his shoulder so he can pull him into a loose hug.

“Okay,” He tells him openly, smiling encouragingly, unusually sincere. “Cool. Thanks for trusting me.”

With his head tucked into Ethan’s neck, Harry nods and exhales shakily, feeling a tiny part of him slot into place. Ethan’s fingertips rub gentle circles against his shoulder and the touch makes him shiver. The other boy presses closer. His thigh is a long line of warmth against Harry’s, the space between their bodies unbearably small, and in an imitation of earlier events his heart rate picks up unnecessarily. He swallows nervously.

“You think you like boys?” Ethan asks him, his voice still low. “Or you know you do?” 

Harry shrugs helplessly.

“I mean, I don’t exactly have much experience do I?”

He tries for joking nonchalance but falls about a mile short, tone vulnerable.

The two of them lapse into silence, but he can tell the conversation is far from over. When he raises his head again, Ethan’s already gazing at him. The other boy licks his lips, hesitates, then mumbles, so quietly Harry’s certain he must have misheard him, “Do you… want to try?”

He opens his mouth, closes it again, tries to speak but stumbles over his words. Ethan’s eyes on his are burning and every part of him feels on fire. Harry wants to kiss him. _Fuck_ , he wants to kiss him so bad. He bites his lip, pushes forward imperceptibly, testing the waters, and Ethan slides a hand into his hair and presses their mouths together.

The slick slide of their lips is dizzying. The scratch of Ethan’s stubble is unfamiliar but far from unpleasant, and the strength of the hand that cups his jawline makes him shiver. Briefly, he registers the difference between kissing girls and kissing Ethan – there’s no softness, no sweet flavour of lip gloss or smell of perfume, just the musky scent of aftershave and the taste of the weed they’d been smoking, and it’s intoxicating. Ethan kisses with his whole body, kisses like he’s got a point to prove, and Harry’s quickly caught up in the motions. He doesn’t care about the differences between kissing girls and kissing boys, fuck, all he cares about right now is kissing Ethan.

When he slides his tongue into his mouth, Harry _wants_ , suddenly, so badly he aches with it. Wants to be held down and fucked and it’s so sudden and overwhelming he’s helpless to the whimper that falls from his throat and the desperate way he presses his entire body against Ethan’s. 

“We should–” Ethan begins, moving his head to suck kisses into Harry’s neck. His voice sounds wrecked. Harry groans, clutches at his back, tilts his head further to the side and feels a bit too proud of himself for making him sound like that.

Ethan moves again to press their foreheads together, but he doesn’t open his eyes.

“We should go to bed.” He finally finishes.

Harry tries his best to ignore the crushing disappointment that floods his chest. He suddenly wonders what the fuck they’re doing. This is his best mate. This is _Ethan_. Their lives are so entwined together that they’re gonna be around each other forever, and one wrong move could break everything, shatter the two of them beyond repair.

But when Ethan opens his eyes, he looks calm. He smiles softly, tangles their fingers together and drags Harry to his feet, moving them both in the direction of his bedroom.

He doesn’t know what the fuck they’re doing, but he doesn’t want to think about it right now.

They go to sleep curled around each other.

**

It’s fucking awkward in the morning, is what it is.

He’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to look his best friend in the eyes again when he knows what it’s like to have his tongue in his mouth and his hands on his throat. So maybe Ethan knows him like no one else does, and maybe they bring out the best in each other, and maybe he’s only just realised that he’s kind of a teeny tiny bit in love with him, but it’s whatever. Shit happens.

He’s pacing around the kitchen, hands itching to do something, feeling on edge and like he wants to jump out of his own skin. Shit. _Fuck_. He hears footsteps coming from the direction of his bedroom and he feels _sick_. Trying desperately to busy his hands, he reaches for a glass, but he’s trembling. He can’t have this conversation right now.

Ethan clears his throat and the first words out of his mouth are, “I’m sorry.”

Inexplicably, Harry wants to cry. God, he’s so _stupid._

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.” Ethan continues and– _what_. “It was– it was _shitty_ of me, Bog, you trusted me, and I fucked up, and I’m _sorry_.”

He’s quickly losing track of where this going.

“This doesn’t have to change anything.”

“Yeah, no, of course.” Harry mumbles distractedly.

“We’re still best mates, right?”

“Mates.” He echoes.

Harry blinks once, twice, three times. He tries to school his features into an impassive expression when he turns to face the other boy. Ethan’s eyebrows are drawn tight, the guilt written all over his face, and Harry laughs breathlessly because what the hell, he’s got this all wrong.

“I wanted it.” He exhales, smiling wobbly, hopefully. “I want _you_.”

For a moment, in the quiet light of the morning, everything hangs in the balance between them. Neither of them breathe.

Ethan kisses him.

Harry steps back with the force of it, winds his arms around Ethan’s neck and surges forward to pour everything into the space where their lips meet. Ethan crowds him into the kitchen counter, hands digging into his waist.

When they separate, they’re both panting.

“Maybe not mates.” Ethan murmurs.

Harry’s helpless to the grin that takes over his face.

Whatever. They’ve got time to figure things out.

So Harry definitely likes boys.

It’s totally not a big deal.


End file.
